


Dance to Forget

by GrayceAdamsArchive



Series: Speak Now [2]
Category: Phineas and Ferb
Genre: Bonus Fic, Fake Relationship, Fake!Married, M/M, Mutual Pining, One-Shot, UST, Undercover, Undercover as a Couple, different POV, fake married, fake married trope
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-30
Updated: 2016-05-30
Packaged: 2018-07-11 01:44:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7020556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrayceAdamsArchive/pseuds/GrayceAdamsArchive
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’d been years since Peter had had the opportunity to dance for pleasure.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dance to Forget

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a little bonus thing I did on tumblr a week or two ago that's a Peter POV of the scene where Miggs and Peter are dancing during the Kellers' ball. I figured I'd post it here as well, for those that didn't see it on tumblr. <3

Sometimes Peter forgot they weren’t really on vacation. It was proving a dangerous habit to form, watching Miggs observing the Kellers, taking in the little wrinkle between his eyebrows, the downward curve of his mouth. Peter nearly missed Miggs starting to speak, too preoccupied by the freckle near the corner of his mouth.

“So he might not even know what’s going on?” Miggs said, his frown deepening into a scowl. “Shit, Peter, I think a second heartbreak like that would kill him.” Peter hummed in agreement, looking away to watch the Kellers when Miggs turned his gaze away from them, so that he wouldn’t catch Peter staring. 

Peter quickly jotted a note in response after a second, knowing that Miggs’ emotional attachment to Ian Keller might pose a problem later if Peter didn’t reassure him now. The last thing Peter needed was Miggs trying to insinuate to Keller that his wife was duping him. Miggs might be brilliant, but subtle wasn’t really in his list of attributes, and purposefully compromising their cover this early in the game wasn’t an option.

**_We’ll look into it, and if that’s the case, break it to him gently._ **

Peter held the notepad up for Miggs to read, the man leaning in slightly to do so before snorting loudly. Peter lifted an eyebrow at the unexpected reaction, and Miggs gave him a flat look.

“Telling him the woman who renewed his faith in love after, like, thirty or forty years is just using him is not gonna go over gently in any way, Peter,” Miggs pointed out, tilting the drink in his hand towards him. Peter sighed and nodded in agreement, sliding his notepad into his back pocket. There was little else they could glean from the Kellers’ ball unless they spoke to them more, and while Miggs had handled himself reasonably well earlier, all things considered, Patricia Keller had been poking at their story a little too hard to just be simple curiosity. He’d prefer to avoid their cover being blown before they even managed to get on the damn boat.

However, the night was young, and it’d been years since Peter had had the opportunity to dance for pleasure.

Glancing at Miggs, Peter tilted his head towards the dance floor in invitation, a smile quirking the corners of his mouth when the man immediately slid into a defensive stance, one he used often when Peter confronted him when he was being Mystery.

“Oh, no, I am not dancing anymore,” Miggs said, lifting his cup like he was considering throwing it at Peter if he tried to grab him. Peter fought down a smirk, quirking an eyebrow as he tilted his head toward the dance floor and then toward where some couples were slinking off to break hotel rules in dark corners. If they were going to stay much longer in the ball, it would be odd if they just hung around the buffet table like a couple of awkward preteens at their first school dance. Everyone else was either dancing or sneaking off to find some private time, unsurprising considering most couples here were on their honeymoon.

Miggs’ cheeks darkened with an appealing blush, holding his drink close to his chest for a moment as he looked away with a faint scowl.

“Fine, okay, whatever,” he mumbled, dropping his cup onto the table next to them, body a little stiff when Peter slid his arm around Miggs’ waist. 

Miggs walked a bit like a man going to the gallows as Peter pulled him back out onto the dance floor, and Peter couldn’t bite back the grin on his face when he pulled Miggs in close and laced their fingers together. Peter knew Miggs had grace in him, he’d seen it, the sway and twist in his hips and spine when he was lecturing so animatedly that he started to pace and jump from one side of his whiteboard to the other. He’d seen him move with all the fluidity of any dancer, dodging and ducking Peter when they fought as nemeses, sliding underneath any punch or kick Peter tried to deliver and spinning out of the way when Peter lunged for him. There was stiffness there, too, which he now knew came from the old injury that painted his back in a knotted starburst. But if Miggs could just loosen up, he’d quickly pick up on how to move naturally along with the steps, especially if Peter was leading. Peter was sure of it.

“This isn’t so bad,” Miggs mumbled, slowly relaxing in Peter’s arms until he was automatically stepping in time with Peter, apparently feeling confident enough that he wasn’t going to step on Peter’s toes to look at the open sky above them. 

Peter hummed and spared a brief glance for the stars, pinpricks of light in inky darkness, not anything he hadn’t seen a thousand times before. It was beautiful, of course, but more so captivating was the man in his arms, someone who’d become more important to Peter than anyone had been since his parents had died. He couldn’t quite explain it, there was something to Miggs that had him standing apart from anyone else Peter knew. Most of the time, he put it down to Miggs being one of the very few people that didn’t treat Peter as a warm body or a tool.

Peter  _ trusted  _ Miggs, with everything. It would be easy for him to use Peter’s cover as leverage against him as his nemesis, but instead…instead they were friends. Instead, Miggs  _ helped  _ him. Went so far as to  _ marry  _ Peter for this mission, put his time and resources and body on the line for this, for Peter.

Looking at Miggs swaying slightly in his arms, bathed in lamplight with stars reflected in his pale eyes and curls falling in their untameable riot around his face, Peter felt something warm bloom and curl in his chest. It wasn’t an unfamiliar feeling, he’d noticed it countless times before just talking with the man, but this time it made his heart jump and skip, clenching as Miggs looked away from the stars to look at Peter instead.

A blush darkened Miggs’ cheeks again, dusting warm under his freckles as he stumbled and they stopped dancing, staring at each other while Peter’s heart decided now was a good time to start racing in his chest.

“What?” Miggs asked after a second, reaching up to touch his own cheek, the corner of his mouth. “Do I have something on my face?” Peter blinked and shook himself mentally, trying to reassure his friend with a smile. 

“Then what are you looking at me like that for?” Miggs asked when Peter shook his head, a frown curving his mouth down at the corners until Peter wanted to kiss him into smiling. Or maybe moaning. He was never sure which he wanted to do to Miggs, and that was always a little confusing.

Peter shrugged and then hesitated, but ended up giving in to the desire. Leaning in to brush a light kiss against Miggs’ mouth like half a question, Peter swallowed down a groan when Miggs tilted his head and melted against him, returning the kiss with a soft sound of pleasure. Peter carefully reigned in the urge to grab Miggs when he wrapped both arms around Peter’s neck to pull him closer, kissing Peter so sweetly it made the heat in Peter’s chest turn into an ache.

Peter wrapped both arms around Miggs’ waist, holding his slim body against Peter’s thicker one. Peter pressed soft, brief kisses to Miggs’ lower lip over and over, tempted to bite but not wanting to go too far; he was always going too far, asking too much of his friend, who was already indulging Peter far more than he was obligated to.

Miggs whimpered, the sound needy and breathless, turning the warm ache in Peter’s chest to a liquid heat in the pit of his stomach. He growled and clutched Miggs tighter, wanting to deepen the kiss, claim Miggs’ mouth and then every inch of his skin until all of him had known Peter’s touch.

Miggs’ fingers knotted in Peter’s hair, pulling him closer, and Peter tightened his grip, sliding one hand up Miggs’ back, feeling the rounded ridges of his spine though his suit, the arch of his back, his other hand bringing Miggs’ hips close enough that Peter’s thickening cock nudged against his thigh.

Peter wanted to back Miggs up against the nearest wall, kiss him until he was rolling his hips into Peter desperately, until he broke away to moan, to  _ beg.  _ He wanted to take him apart piece by piece over the course of  _ hours _ and then put him back together just as carefully, until he knew every secret of Miggs’ body. He wanted to kiss and touch and  _ have  _ Miggs, and not stop until Miggs never wanted to leave.

Miggs gasped, breaking the kiss, and Peter barely managed to drag his eyes open, feeling a little dazed as Miggs stared at him with wide eyes, pupils blown and cheeks flushed.

“Are—” Miggs began, kiss-swollen mouth parting around the word, making Peter want to kiss him again.

But then the music stopped, Peter blinked, and remembered. 


End file.
